The Lady Serenadellatrovella
by GravityCat
Summary: The High Council needs the Second Doctor after his trial. Now he is saddled with a sheltered Time Lady who is unsure about how she feels about him or about her restrictive past. She finds she is more open to change than she'd thought. An awkward romance.
1. Chapter 1

**"**_**The Lady Serenadellatrovella"**_

_This runs amok with the second Doctor and Serenadellatrovella from the book WORLD GAME by Terrance Dicks. Why? Because I wanted to get the Second Doctor alone with a companion. For those not in the know (which would include me up until recently) this book takes place right after the Second Doctor has been convicted of interfering in other worlds' affairs. He is sentenced to death... until the Time Lords realize they need him for something._

_This story starts at a later point, however._

* * *

Romana sat with her back to a huge oak. She was getting bored with staring at the Doctor who was slumped opposite her. He was hiding under his hat, pretending to sleep, no doubt. With a little smile, she leaned forward and began to tug on the scarf that was wound around his neck.

"Romana," he grumbled. "Behave. Let me nap." And with a deft snap of his wrist, he managed to retrieve the scarf without looking up. With awkward movements, he stood then. He seemed unsteady as he walked away from her.

"You weren't trying to sleep," she said, looking at his ashen face and the way he pinched at his eyes. "You were..."

"It's nothing, Romana. Being here... just doesn't appeal to me, I suppose. Rome was fine. But Belgium? Coming out to the countryside..."

"It was your idea to come here."

"I forgot," he seethed. "That was very, very wrong of me. To forget so well. If I don't remember..."

_So much is still scrambled with this regeneration's memories," he thought. Or was it that I had worked that hard to forget._

_The trial. The aftermath. How long ago was that? Three hundred years? Four hundred? It doesn't matter how long, _he told himself._ It shouldn't matter how long._

He stood there as if stunned while she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head to his chest. She had learned the value of such physicality from him. It was restorative. It was hope. It was what you had when even hope was lost. And it was what he needed now, she guessed.

_In those days right after my trial, I was not, perhaps, in the best frame of mind. Certainly, I was not on my best behavior. _

_That young Time Lady assigned to me had actually been just a bit older than me. But no wiser. I always used to tease her about that. Older, certainly, no wiser. _

"Oh, Serena," Romana thought she heard him say. "I'm sorry."

She tightened her grip on him and echoed his thoughts. "I'm sorry," Romana said. "I'm so sorry." She had no idea what was the matter. Just that something most assuredly was.

...&&&...

**author's note: Yes, yes. Very short. I know. More to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: This loosely follows the events in World Game by Terrance Dicks. I do not own these characters. Nor do I make any money. And I am not trying to. And so, I will now make these characters do things that would likely make Terrance Dicks cry._

_In writing the Second Doctor here, I have him, perhaps, a bit OoC seeming. But he is, as Four said, "not on his best behavior" after the ordeal of a trial and death sentence. He is also likely to behave differently with a Time Lady than he would his other, traditional companions. Two is a young man, something it is easy to forget. He is in his prime. And young enough that his behavior might not be always 'mature.'_

_

* * *

  
_

If the Lady Serenadellatrovella was surprised to see an agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency in her office, she hid it well.

"Forces we do not quite understand are interfering with the lives of two pivotal Earth figures: Wellington and Napoleon," Sardon told her. "But I don't need you to care about that. The bottom line is, we can't send the Doctor alone."

Serenadellatrovella stifled a laugh. "No, I imagine you can't. This must all be very embarrassing for the Council. You sentence a man to death and then admit you need him to do all manner of things?"

Serena could see that she was what they were after. They needed a babysitter for the Doctor, someone to run out and back with him on this problem they were having with Earth history. She smiled faintly up at Sardon.

"I'm so busy here at the library..." she told him.

"You want a shot at the President's job some day." It wasn't a question. He had done his research, he knew of her ambition. "You aren't going to get it sitting here, even with a good family name. You need to make sure someone owes you something."

"And if I agree to mind the Doctor?"

"Believe me, the CIA and the Council will most assuredly owe you something then. You can get out of this library and have your pick of political appointments when you get back. And you could use the off-world experience. You haven't gone anywhere since you left the Academy, have you?" That last bit seemed a measured sort of taunt.

It had been a calculated risk to devote her time to library research to feed her political ambitions. She was young, but the older she got without having been truly off-world and time traveling, the more hesitant she became about trying those things.

"I'll give you an answer in two days," she told Sardon, if only to shut him up. But she knew she would need at least that much time to research the man at the center of this.

#$%#$%

A week later the Doctor sat on a wooden stool in a TARDIS console room, his arms placed over his chest. He could have gone elsewhere, some other room in this borrowed ship, but there would be enough time spent alone after this trip. The High Counsel would likely have him locked up in solitary when this was done. He might as well sit here and stare at this haughty, self-important thing steering them about.

Besides, the Lady Serenadellatrovella was a bit fun to watch. So serious, this one. Every inch of her was the out-of-place researcher. She even dressed like she belonged inside stacks of books with her traditional sleeveless robe over a featureless costume of blouse and skirt.

He turned his head and considered her strange bottoms. _**Was**__ it a skirt?_ His heavy eyebrow arched as he watched her round the console in his direction. _Hmmm. Not a skirt. Trousers? Divided skirt?_ he thought, trying to place the type of apparel his minder was wearing.

The Tardis lurched then, and he felt himself slide from his seat. He stumbled to his right, catching the stool and carrying it along with him. Involuntarily, he found his finger was extended toward her as if in question.

"What?" Serenadellatrovella demanded. She blew a lock of hair out of her face. Then she pressed the offending console lever back down with two hands while she glared at him. "If you could pilot this..."

"Not that," he said, dismissively. "What do you call what you are wearing? I couldn't decide. If it would please the Lady Serenadellatrovella?" He put his stool back down where he would be afforded the best view of her. Flipping his coat tails out behind him, he resumed his seat. Perhaps he smiled a little too broadly.

He was sure he knew why she had volunteered to be his companion. Or his_ '__**jailer.**__'_ 'Parole officer' is actually how she had phrased it at their first meeting. She was getting some sort of consideration from the High Counsel or the CIA... or both. Serendellatrovella was a very ambitious Time Lady, one from an old, insular family. Oh, he knew her kind. A traditional sort of upbringing, big on the virtues of the Looms and the dangers of primitive emotions. Normally, the sort that was more into theoretical or planet-bound pursuits. Usually too timid to travel about, risking exposure to unsanitary ideas and practices. Or questionable Time Lords like him. _Oh, they must have offered her a lot. I am quite sure I am beyond questionable in her eyes._

She interrupted his thoughts. "Have you verified the calculations for the next Earth period we need?"

They were jumping from point to point and checking the time line as they went. They needed to insure that there was no interference after that place and time they needed to secure for the CIA. Not difficult to accomplish, especially not with this new, well-serviced Tardis. So, he was sick of the process, and tired from having heard her same question 10 times over the past day and a half.

"Yes," he replied, with irritation. "I've checked the calculations." He dragged a hand over his craggy face. Then, he drawled for the 100th time, "And does that please the Lady Serenadellatrovella?"

In the time they had spent together, he had always ended every opinion or answered every question just like that. He would take the time to languidly address her by her full name and title in the impersonal third person. His mood was that sour.

But she didn't bite back. He wanted her to, but she didn't, ever. Silently, now she looked up from the controls of the newer Type 97 TARDIS that only she could effectively operate. And she smiled. It was a sweet and infuriating older-sister smile. On a face he was trying not to find enjoyable. That face moved from patient to patiently amused then as she told him, "Your help has been lovely, Doctor. I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule.

"Come on, " she said, then, sighing. "Why not help me? Learn how to steer this over powered beast."

He tried to come up with a reason not to. A reason just to sit there on the stool and continue to be annoying and miserable. But he decided she had earned at least a little civility from him. After all, she had put up with his attitude for far longer than anyone else would have.

It was likely that she was just sick of the pantomime they were living. Or perhaps a grudging respect was forming between them, he thought as he walked to the main panel.

She backed away as he lined himself up in front of the chief controls. She took up his seat on the wooden stool and regarded him with a nod. And a with grin that she hid. _Rapscallion, younger than me and already in so much trouble,_ she thought as she watched him rub his hands together in contemplation. _Not that he cares. Terrible reputation, but his calculations are always quick. His period observations, spot on. _

Before she had agreed to take him on, she had read everything on him from the court case and the other sources she could find. She had decided that the two of them were complete opposites. His greatest ambition was to be left alone by the Time Lord Council, to live by his own code. He had his sense of justice and fairness. He helped those he could.

_But why? What was in it for him?_ she had wondered. At first, she was sure he merely delighted in being an aggravating enigma. Or that it fed his ego. Before she had talked to people who had actually known him and before she had gotten to know him herself, she thought that being off-world was the only way for him to shine. She had seen his school grades after all. If his talents were as meager as his marks implied, it was no wonder he had run off hoping to prove himself.

But that wasn't it, was it?

She watched him now. His quirky, loose-limbed walk was taking him in a circle around the panel.

Distractible? Only when he wasn't spectacularly engrossed.

Dangerous? No. just independent. Principled.

Annoying? Well, yes.

She had started to see him differently even before she had seen him at all. She had tracked down an old friend of his named Adenamelora. That middle aged Time Lady had laughed at Serena's question and told her, "You want to know what's in it for him?! Nothing. Well, and everything. He has to do it. He can't not."

"Can't not meddle?" was Serena's sardonic reply.

"Help. He needs to help. Well, ...and feel. The things he feels, that's why he gets involved." And the older Lady had laughed a little more then, seeing that explaining the Doctor to someone like Lady Serenadellatrovella was pointless.

Watching Adenamelora's face while they talked about the Doctor, Serena was intrigued. She was certain that elder Time Lady was one of those retrograde breeders. Or maybe just the kind who would take a physical lover. Maybe the Doctor was more than an old friend.

At the time, the notion had horrified and disgusted her. Right now, contemplating the play of his hands over the TARDIS dials and the eager steps he took to the far monitor, she was fascinated by him. Even if he was a social contrarian (in EVERY way), there was something exciting about him. He was so different from the dried up, walking dead of Gallifrey's capital. She didn't know what made him intriguing. His curiosity. His ideals. (The rumors that he had a belly button and that his parents had had a love-match?) But she was sure she was watching the result. He was so beautifully animate. So physically... _**compelling**_.

"I could use your help." His admission broke her reverie.

"You recognize the navigational circuits. Not completely unlike your Type 40. Set it," she encouraged him.

"Oh, I am sure that under the conditions of my parole, I'm not supposed to," he mock pouted.

"I am sure you don't care about 'supposed tos'!" She walked over to his side of the control panel.

It had not been a conscious plan. But part of her suddenly thought that if she leaned into him too closely and watched his reaction, she would figure out if he was one of '_**them.**_'

Maybe it was sloppily done, because he neither ignored the intrusion nor leered. He merely froze there and smiled quickly as if it amused him to have an antiseptic Time Lady pressed up against him.

"Adena sent me a note about your meeting," came his low tones. "She was sure you thought her very.... scandalous. Did you?"

That didn't answer Serena's question, but it made her blush.

She made her way to the far side of the panel. Her head down, she checked a monitor that he would have wagered did not need checking - parked as they were. And then she told him, "It would be good to have you help me. It is a bother to operate this thing on my own. Walking back and forth from the scanners to the navigational controls. They really did not know what they were asking of me when they sent me."

He was going to fire off some retort. Something about how it was her ambition that had gotten her to volunteer. She had not been SENT anywhere. He was the poor clod being sent places against his will.

But he saw it then. The look from under her eyebrows. This was an olive branch. She was as tired of them working against each other as he was.

"What would you like me to do then?" he said, at least _**trying**_ to make it sound unwilling. She smiled again and motioned for him to join her on her side. He worked next to her for a full 20 minutes then before he realized he had forgotten to add a sarcastic, "Does that please The Lady Serenadellatrovella?"

One look at her and he knew, it hadn't taken her half that long to notice that he had forgotten.

* * *

_Author's note: __It's supposed to make you smile._ :) 

_ I am thrilled that anyone is reading this. Thank you. _


	3. Chapter 3

###&&&###

They were moving by point-to-point navigation. Those were the instructions Serena had received. But she had halted them here. Precisely nowhere. There was one more stop to check, and it seemed a dangerous sort to Serena. It was, as the Doctor explained, a war time exchange he needed to ensure took place. His theory being that the personalities involved, this time Allenby and Haig, during the First World War, were again the key to the changes someone was attempting to make. He assured her it would be easy for him to verify that the time line was properly intact with a quick visit to the Battle of Arras.

Serena was not the type to leave details to someone else. And so it made sense (at least to her) that they delay until tomorrow while she researched this next time period. She was insistent that the Doctor should also review the critical events involving Napoleon and Wellington with her.

They sat in the library, quietly sipping hot tea. He smiled at her faintly while she seemed to study him. She shocked him then when she broke their silence to bring up his trial. And with a modicum of words and an unlikely shrug, she told him she was surprised that the Council had singled him out. It was dismaying, she said, that they had punished him for acting on his conscience.

He put his feet up then and looked at her over his mug. "Oh, My Lady Serena. You are older than I. But, perhaps, no wiser. The Council does not care _**why**_ I do things. They do not even care what is right or wrong. They see only their rules. And the Time Lord who breaks them."

He swung his feet down then and stood, effectively ending any talk of his trial. Without any words, he handed her two of his books on Earth history. Thinking her a hard sort, he was surprised a bit then. He had not figured her for the type to appreciate the age or the quality of the volumes. But she lingered over them before even opening them. She fingered the bindings, and he imagined it was the smell of the leather that pricked up her smile.

It was then that he admitted to himself that none of what had transpired today was what he had expected from his ambitious jailer. This woman had been quite pliant in recent hours. Agreeable even. Having him help with the operation of the TARDIS could have been seen as self serving. She had even pretended it was. But that was her way of including him. Of making him feel useful, he saw now.

He watched the way she leaned into the book. The thoughtful, almost lost look to her face as she read. There had been no reason to suspect she had asked him to share his knowledge of Earth history because of some need for control. But that had been what he had originally thought.

He answered her questions for an hour and grew more and more impressed by her thoroughness. She was especially intent on understanding the situation they would encounter in 19th century Europe, Earth.

They were so very different, the two of them. She had this need to feel prepared and he had always been so... well, random, he realized, in his travels.

But he enjoyed indulging her for some reason. So, he paced and lectured. He loomed over her quite animatedly and pointed out diagrams and maps in the various texts. And then when it was time to talk about Napoleon specifically, he felt strangely compelled to change tacks.

Perhaps it was that discussing the man's life called for a more personal touch. Or perhaps, the idea of testing someone who seemed as sheltered as Serena appealed to him a just little. After all, she had tried to bait him earlier.

The Doctor told Serena about Napoleon's love for Josephine, and he moved his chair closer to hers. "A beautiful woman," he told her. "Napoleon was quite besotted by her. His letters to her were very.... stirring. 'You to whom nature has given spirit, sweetness, and beauty, you who alone can move and rule my heart, you who know all too well the absolute empire you exercise over it!'" he quoted. "But despite the passion, there were affairs. Betrayal."

"How can that matter?" she asked stiffly, shuffling her resources.

"It may matter. It may not." And then he could not resist the urge to tease her a bit. "Just as your own beauty might come into play on this little visit," he told her, trying to make the compliment seem very off-handed.

She seemed rankled and shifted the materials in front of her again, rearranging them needlessly.

He watched how defensive she seemed and smiled kindly. Oh, she was a bright girl. Capable. Politically savvy. And pretty. He hadn't been exaggerating that. But emotionally?

Most of the Time Ladies of her ilk would have merely stared at him in stony silence had he had mentioned their looks. But a part of Serena seemed very ready to hear it. But bothered.

"Are you ashamed of being thought attractive? Or just embarrassed that it is me who has mentioned it. Well, don't be silly. Feel free to discount the source!" He picked up an open book that lay on the table near him and asked, "Now where were we?"

She was on her feet before he got his question out. Moving as if to escape him or to hide the way he had made her feel. He followed her to the far side of the library and whispered over her shoulder. "Just because there has never been a pretty President of the High Council of Time Lords, you think it will work against you? Some day, maybe all the presidents will be frightfully good looking," he mused. With a gentle hand to her shoulder, he urged her to face him.

She had recovered her composure, he saw. Her hands were on her hips now and she was glowering at him. But he was undeterred. "And if our cleverness fails us," he said, "and we need to get closer to either of the targeted men on our mission, it may be your lovely face that gets us there." He patted her nose then and quickly turned for the door.

$%^#$%^

It had been a restless night. He had spent hours asking himself what he'd been up to the previous evening. He wanted a way to excuse his behavior. But all he could do was groan as he recalled it. He had started off teasing her, which was ridiculous enough. But he had ended the night (he cringed to admit) _**flirting**_.

_There is no telling_ _what will happen when a condemned man finds himself with a reprieve. _ _Yes_, he answered himself. _Madness __**obviously**__ ensues. _

Serena was not sweetness or innocence, he insisted. After all, she had proven herself to be rather conniving. But she was delightful in that she was _**possibility**_. In her was possibility for change and newness.

He was wrong though. There was a sweetness in her. It was something she had hidden. Something she seemed as discomforted by as her own pleasing looks. And there was innocence. Her self-restraint had left her emotionally ... and physically untouched.

He groaned and pushed himself off the bed. And then busied himself with getting dressed for the day. It was as if he thought keeping his hands busy with a quick succession of demands would prevent his mind from pouring over the previous night.

Once dressed, he paused at the door to his room before exiting. _These emotions were a choice in life,_ he reminded himself. _And I consciously choose not to make a fool of myself with my jailer._

#$%#$%

That morning in the galley, he was well armed to insulate himself from finding her interesting. A book in one hand and something resembling a bagel on his plate.

"I've never traveled outside of school," she said, as she took the seat beside him. A strange catch played in her voice. "Is that what makes things seem odd?"

He looked away from her to his plate. She moved it further away then, as if to demand an answer.

He rolled his eyes. "What seems odd?" he asked, seeming a bit short tempered.

But he knew the answer. _**Everything**_ suddenly seemed very odd. Well, everything involving the two of them.

She looked at him and regretted her words. _Idiot_, she chastised herself. _He'll tell you it's your imagination. Or something to do with your inexperience. Or worse yet, he'll admit he was just playing with you last night. _

Angry with herself, she sighed and shook her head. Things. Information. Knowledge. Living the way she had always lived. _**That **_was where she excelled. The Doctor was something new. "Forget it," she told him. "It's nothing." And she slid his plate back to to its place in front him. As she pushed up from the table, the word she left him with was, "Fool."

And he may have thought she meant him.

"Fool? After you come between me and my breakfast ..." But she was already out of the galley by then. He frowned, wondering how to set this right now. Suddenly, dealing with the likes of Allenby, Wellington and Napoleon seemed far less challenging than traveling with his jailer.

Away from Gallifrey. Away from her numbing work at the Capitol Library (and her equally-numbing family), Serena was set free to think and do things she wouldn't have before.

Maybe she had discovered things she didn't like about herself or the universe.

Or maybe, it is that she _**does **_like these new thoughts and possibilities, he considered. He should have thought about that last night. He may have stoked all sorts of new ideas in her with the way he'd acted.

Traveling the stars could be a bit of an aphrodisiac. Well, that was the legend. The Doctor just thought the average Time Lord needed time away from the expectations of everyone else on Gallifrey. Everything else, all those unimportant bits and restrictions just fall away when you travel. Too few understood that.

You could be surrounded by thousands and avoid knowing any of them in the capital. But when you traveled.... Well, that was the problem wasn't it? It was incredibly hard to avoid even the smallest things when you traveled together.

He walked the halls to the console room and ran it all through his mind again. A young woman's first unscripted journey out might find her thinking all manner of things. She might want to try things she would never have considered before... even if it was only so that she could properly catalog the experience once back at her library.

As the seasoned traveler, he owed her the chance to discuss what she was feeling, he thought with only a hint of smugness.

#$%#$%

She watched him come in. Immediately, she decided that he knew, _just knew_, she had turned into an emotional mess overnight.

"We could talk about it," he offered.

"Not with that superior-looking smirk on your face, we can't."

He rubbed at his mouth, but he found that, irrationally, he was only smiling more now. "All those stories about traveling sparking feelings..." he began. "It's just a legend. There is nothing to the notion that your distance from the Looms makes you revert into a ... physical being. You just are who you are." He watched her. She spared him the briefest look and then leaned back over the console as if to work. "And apparently, you are someone who is very uncomfortable with these inklings."

"Inklings I can handle. Maybe I'm just very uncomfortable with the notion that I find a criminal ...attractive."

"Oh, this is bad," he sighed, keeping his distance, but beginning to pace. "Just yesterday you were telling me how unfair it was that I had been through that ridiculous trial. How all of this seemed a particularly stupid reaction to nothing more than my altruism. And now you want me to believe you think me a criminal?" He looked down at his shoes and thought about what she had said. "I find it harder to believe that you find me attractive," he finished.

"It's true," she griped. "It's horrible. And primitive. And embarrassing, which I think you secretly like." She punctuated her speech with swipes taken at the dials on the console panel. And then she paused. "Still, for some reason, I just want you to kiss me and get it over with."

"You've been kissed before?" he asked, clinically.

"Yes, of course," she insisted.

"At school? Some sort of dare, I wager?"

She wouldn't look at him suddenly. "It doesn't matter."

"It does. Because if I'm right, then it was just some little passionless thing. Hmmm? Not something you felt compelled to do." While he spoke to her, he came closer in. His words were soft and gentle. Enticing. Because for the first time in years, he wanted what he said to be enticing.

"It was a dare. Alright?" she told him.

He was directly behind her now, unnerving her with his proximity.

"Did you like it? I ask because, there's no reason to repeat an experience if you didn't..."

"It sort of ... tingled. In a nice way."

His hand traced down her spine lightly. He watched it travel, because he rather thought it had begun this on its own. "It's different," he whispered, "when you're all grown up. When it's not a dare."

He thought he might have heard her moan then. But it didn't make him feel smug at all. "Serenadellatrovella," he said, and her name came out surprisingly sweet and lilting. His hands gently turned her to face him, and he said her full name over again. His head dropped then for just a moment in a manner that struck her as almost shy. "I didn't want to like you," he told her softly, as he leaned in even closer.

His lips barely touched hers then. He shivered a bit with the restraint it took not to kiss her harder. When he said her name again, she heard in it the question he couldn't ask. "Yes," she said, moving awkward hands to his chest. "Kiss me more."

She worked to kiss him back, and felt herself plagued by the nudge of instinct and her mind's assessment of the mechanics of their actions. She sensed whole portions of thought getting blotted out as her emotions grew. More and more of her mind seemed to become the little that was just him and this kiss. Until she felt him smile against her mouth, and she faltered.

"There's just the one last point to check," he whispered, softly against her cheek.

"Yes, thank you." She cleared her throat then and leaned awkwardly away from him. And he took the hint. He backed up from her and left her to manage the console.

%^&%^&


	4. Chapter 4

It took a while to ready everything for this final observation in 1918. He wanted to assess the relationship between Allenby and Haig during a key battle in the Great War, and so he needed to be on the ground.

"This is the perfect chance for you to use the Time Ring that the Council supplied us with. We won't have to rematerialize the Tardis. And I can recall you whenever you want. Just press it here," Serena told him. "And say my name. Then I'll retrieve you."

"I've used it recently, actually," he said, as he took the device with a nod.

What he didn't tell her was that when The Council had had him use it before, it had been with less than spectacular results. The operator had gotten bored and walked off. The Doctor had been left hanging at a very inopportune point. He shivered a bit now thinking about it.

The Doctor noted that his interactions with Serena had become formal and awkward since the impromptu kiss that morning. Still, he didn't regret it. He wasn't the type for that. But he was betting she could stand some time away from him right now. He moved for the specially prepared corner of the console room. And he smiled lightly and nodded when he was ready for her to use the time device that would send him to his destination. Without a word from either of them then, he was gone.

###

Hours later, she was still waiting. She was sure he was enjoying himself. Meddling. Or whatever he found he could not help but do whenever he was on Earth.

She felt the call then as much as heard it when it came through. _It must be the 97's bio-enhanced circuitry_, she thought, as she moved quickly for the control to pull him back. She watched the dials which told her the retrieval had gone perfectly. But when she looked up, she didn't see him. _He should be there_, she thought with some aggravation, _right there, on the far side of the console._

Rounding the machinery, she could see him now, lying on the floor. She looked him over quickly. He didn't seem profoundly injured, but his hands were bound behind him. And her hands found his clothing was sodden and cold.

"Doctor?" she called out, with stoic reserve, as she rolled him a bit.

"Hello," he managed, finally opening his eyes. "Could you untie me or get me up? Either will do to start." He sounded physically exhausted.

As she worked on the ropes at his back, she told him bluntly, "I will not understand why you are so fond of these people when they tie you up..."

"The ones with the ropes are not the ones I am so fond of," he explained with a weak smile. He groaned then and rubbed at his wrists.

With strong hands to his arms, she got him on his feet. And that was when she saw the bruise to his cheek bone. Her face changed, as he watched her. She gently pushed at the wet hair that was partially covering the mark, and her features softened even more. Her eyes went wide. "They hit you?!"

"No. The ground hit me. A few soldiers did help the process along though."

She hadn't taken her hands from him, he noticed. "Your regrettable sense of humor is wholly intact, however."

"It is that last bit of my sangfroid. Showing off," he suggested.

And she saw it in his eyes then, like ice. The trace of real fear. Just that faintest trace. "You'd better tell me," she instructed him, levelly.

"They were rather certain I needed to be shot when they found me outside Haig's command post. That's what they do with spies, you see. They were just forming the firing squad when you pulled me out."

"Why did you wait so long to call me?"

"I was having a little trouble thinking straight after I met with the ground. I didn't leave before then because there was someone else in Haig's compound who didn't belong there. Another person traveling in time. I wanted to get a little closer to him, if I could."

"A Time Lord?"

"I don't know. But I don't think so. He was up to something. Trying to change something. Perhaps he had keyed into the same event as being crucial to whatever he is up to. Right before he left, he said, 'Welcome to the game.' He introduced himself as 'Valmont' and then just disappeared after that. I am afraid we should expect to run into more of these interferers where we are going next. It's likely..."

She nodded and cut him off, "We'll talk about it more later. You're wet. Soaked through."

"They don't stop for the weather, dear. Just keep at it. The generals don't seem to mind if it's raining."

"Please try to stop talking and get this wet thing off!" she chastised him, as she pulled at his coat. "So, this is what you've been doing all these years? Tempting death? How utterly ironic!" she said, sternly as she pulled his wet garment from him with equal roughness. "The Council _**commutes**_ your death sentence, but you seem determined to have the original punishment carried out!" She only stopped her railing when she realized he had sunk his head to her shoulder for a moment. It was not fatigue or injury, she quickly realized. He was chuckling.

"A lot of the time, it's enjoyable. Really," he said as he straightened up and then moved to rub at his arms. "There is the odd bit of running. I do enjoy a puzzle to solve. The firing squads are a rarity." She seemed to draw a little closer to him then. And her eyes seemed to shift to his wry smile. Then she touched his cheek near his bruise again.

He returned the touch then, passing his fingers over her cheek. And her eyes flew to his with surprise. "I'm sorry," he told her quickly as he withdrew his hand. "I mis .... Sometimes... Earth custom. The hero gets welcomed home. I thought...." But he wouldn't say the words out loud,_ I thought_ y_ou meant to kiss me_. He groaned and closed his eyes then, feeling the fool. He felt a pang of embarrassment in his chest.

She might only have been responding to the challenge she had picked up on. He would not have expected her to care about his embarrassment. But she leaned in quickly while his eyes were still closed and kissed him. His hands dug into her reflexively when she nipped at his lower lip as she finished.

"Where did you learn that?" he asked with more of a gasp than he had wanted to allow.

"Library. All manner of books in the library."

"I've been set up," he insisted. "You came here to practice all the things you've read about ... on me."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, as she dropped her hands from him. She swung her robe off then and settled it around him. "It was just an opportune use of some rather arcane knowledge. I can tell how affected by the cold you are by testing your lip responses."

"Ha!" was all he managed, as he passed a hand over his mouth.

"I've also read books on fruit bat dissection. I don't think that is going to come up, however." She tried to look at him sternly, but was too worried by his color. "Get dry clothes on. Go to bed. Please. The world can wait." Not wanting to risk touching him again, she merely pointed at the interior door.

###

He sat on his stool in the console room. For the most part, he appeared lost in thought, which Serena supposed was a vote of confidence for her piloting. The sound of rematerialization made him raise his head. "We are here?"

"9 August, 1794. Fort Carre in Antibes," she said, checking the monitor. "This is where a young Napoleon is being held prisoner? What are we to do?" Her manner was quite schooled. She would not show him any effects from their earlier interactions or from their kiss. And he seemed inclined to forget the whole thing as well, she decided, noticing the way his eyes avoided her.

"Well, we will make sure the time line goes ahead without any problems," he said vaguely. "Now, since the chameleon circuit on this TARDIS works, we can blend in. Did you set a form before we landed?" He asked a finger to his lips.

"We look like a lovely ornamental fountain," she said. "I hope." And she smiled at him. She was quite relieved when it was returned.

Without a word, he dashed through the interior door with quick nervous steps. He returned 3 minutes later in a tailored shirt and trousers with period appropriate coat. "I wouldn't want to embarrass you," he explained. And then he held out the cloak he was carrying for her to put on, "My Lady," he said with a slight bow of his head.

She walked to him slowly, not understanding what was happening. Only knowing that as much as things had changed, they were not done changing. Neither time, nor people, nor worlds, nor knowledge being fix marks evidently, she mused.

This was not a safe thing they were about to embark on, she knew. This was a time of hostilities on Earth and to be mistaken for anyone's enemy would be dire. And more, there were those unknown forces that were at the heart of altering the time line. Certainly, those individuals were likely to be dangerous. But she saw no fear in this fellow who held her cloak, even after what he had been through earlier. Likely, she thought with admiration, he has managed this sort of thing a hundred times before.

"Allons y?" she said.

"You have been studying, I see. You know, I like that. Allons y."

...

Walking about the compound at Antibes, they soon came across a man named Citizen-Representative Latour who had just arrived bearing orders for Napoleon's immediate execution.

The Doctor and Serena quickly moved to interject themselves into the conversation when Latour confronted the prison governor outside.

"You can't execute him, Monsieur Governor," the Doctor stated with authority.

"How can I not with these orders in hand?"

"Those orders are forged," the Doctor insisted with a harsh whisper, as he turns the Governor away from Latour.

"Who are you to suggest such a thing?" Latour angrily demanded.

"I am Citizen-Representative Henri Dupont," the Doctor announced, "and this is my aide, Marie Lebrun." All eyes turn to Serena, and she froze for a moment before curtseying quickly.

"We've brought orders for Napoleon's release," the Doctor announced, and he produced a document from his coat.

"These cannot both be correct," the Governor lamented as he scanned both letters side by side. "This makes a choice of action quite difficult."

"Not at all, Governor," Serena said, quite confidently. Everyone was watching her now, but she did not allow so much as a tremble. "Surely," she continued, "you would agree that it would be far easier to just kill him at a later date than it would be to try to bring him back to life."

The Doctor nearly laughed with satisfaction at the words that Serena had spoken. He enjoyed being the spectator then and watching how the others responded. He saw the Governor was swayed, not only by what she had said, but by the Time Lady's bearing and her air of authority. Unconsciously, the Doctor found himself stepping in a wide circle around her, as if he wanted to capture the moment in his mind from every angle. His eyes were thoughtful and full of approval.

"Your logic, dear lady, is as undeniable as your beauty," the Governor finally said with a deferential nod of his head.

She nodded briefly in return to the graying official as a flush crept across her chest and face. The Doctor lowered his head a bit too, as if bowing to her authority. And his hand came to his mouth in a pensive gesture for just a moment as he watched her. He waited for her to find his eyes. To see his admiration. Then he passed from her view until she sensed him behind her.

She heard the Doctor's furtive, whispered praise then, "Quite undeniable, My Lady. Hear, hear!"

She worked to ignore the shiver she felt and calmly thanked the Governor for his words. Keenly aware of every step suddenly, Serena backed away from him to step closer to the Doctor. "What happens now, Doctor?" she whispered. "Is that all that was..."

And in that moment they missed it. A furious Latour pulled out a pistol and announced he would kill Napoleon himself, but it is the Governor he is threatening. With less than a moments t hought, the Doctor surmised that they were at too great a distance from the others to do anything but watch events unfold.

A shot rang out, and those gathered were shocked to see Latour fall to the ground. The Doctor scanned the horizon and then froze at the sight of a well dressed woman approaching.

"This is not a welcome circumstance," he said to no one in particular, as he squinted at the armed newcomer.

"Do you know her?" Serena asked as she leans in close to him.

"Unfortunately, yes," he hissed.

And the Doctor was then surprised to see the being he knows merely as 'the Countess' has herself brought orders for the release of Napoleon. He knows what side she is on, now, but her full motives escape him. Obviously, he thinks, as he looks down at Latour, there are other forces at work, too. Another side in this game. The Doctor understands now that the Countess is part of one of two groups that is playing with human history. That for her purposes, she needs Napoleon alive.

The Governor strode for the prison gate, calling for guards. And the Countess calmly walked over to the pair of Time Lords. "Doctor," she said with a thin smile. "Welcome to the game."

"I do wish you people would stop saying that," he told her, tartly.

"Well, that's what has happened, isn't it?" she asked slyly. "You are new Players in this game. The more the merrier. But I will win. Watch me," she bragged. "With a single stroke, I'll have victory by sea and land both." She backed away from them then, displaying a sickening smile. She turned and walked for the tree line, but never made it. With a wave of her hand, she simply disappeared.

"Sea and land ... both?" the Doctor mumbled, seeming more disturbed by what she had said than by her disappearance.

"What sort of person on Earth can manage THAT," Serena insisted still staring at the spot the Countess had lately occupied.

"No one that belongs here," the Doctor replied. "One of the Players, from a group of Immortals. I would like to see the back of them finally." And then he turned for the Tardis and continued to repeat, "Sea and land? Sea and land..."

"Yes," Serena replied. "She said that with a single stroke she would have victory by sea and land both."

Serena opened the door on the disguised Tardis and then stood aside. She watched the distracted Doctor walk through while drumming at his lip with a finger.

Once she had the door closed, she turned to see the Doctor's countenance had dramatically changed.

"Nelson and Wellington," he announced, clapping his hands together.

"Yes, that makes perfect sense. Nelson and Wellington. Sea and land," she said, sharing the Doctor's triumph.

"And somehow, she plans to get to them both at the same time."

"And we don't know when and where," Serena added, sounding less happy now.

"But we will," he promised with a smile.

#$%#$%#$%

**_Author's note. Thanks so much for reading! I really am no fan of the Time Ring. But it was in the book, so I used it here. _**


	5. Chapter 5

They stood together in the Tardis, leaning over the same monitor, reading through rapidly flashing bits of material.

"There," Serena said with a finger to the screen.

"Yes, the two men met only once, at the Colonial Office on 12 September 1805, while waiting to see the Secretary of War." He placed a friendly hand to her back. "Well done," he whispered.

Whether they were surrounded by people or alone, that whisper of his always poured through her. It overwhelmed her. There was such intimacy in it. She wondered at her sanity that she could interpret something so meaningless, so benign, in a way that was erotic.

"You will need to be plain with me," she insisted in the level voice of a Gallifreyan bureaucrat. He removed his hand then, as if burned. "You need to explain what you anticipate to be between us," she continued.

"I can't speak for you. But I am sincerely pleased to be in your company," he said too formally.

"Plainer still, Doctor," she demanded with a rise in emotion. Time Ladies could be quite daunting, he was beginning to remember. A nuanced conversation was not something they often enjoyed.

"I am not the one who may have... changed," he equivocated as he began to circle the console, checking dials that didn't needed checking. "It isn't for me to say what I would like to see happen. I wouldn't pressure you. So, perhaps you should tell me, lady, what you are thinking. Or ask me ..."

"Are you toying with me because I am inexperienced? Are you making a fool of me?"

"No. I'm not." He met her eyes now, kindly, reassuringly. "If anyone is acting the fool...."

"And does that mean that you will be moved to kiss me again?"

"I find, I have been thinking precisely that for over an hour," he admitted.

There was an interminable pause then. Neither moved. Neither spoke. He was the experienced one. That is what she thought. That is what he reminded himself. But he was not so confident that he could go to her now.

A few seconds later, he could sense it. As someone who understood time, he felt that critical moment when action had been required. He felt it pass unanswered. He cleared his throat then and stepped to the controls beside him.

She had felt it too. The confusion of knowing what you want, the knowledge that you will not move to make it happen. "Can you get us to the Colonial Office from here, Doctor?" she asked then, quite matter-of-factly.

He nodded and placed his hands on the navigation circuits.

###

The Doctor and Serena exited the Tardis which now conveniently looked like yet another fountain beside the Colonial Office. Almost immediately, they saw the traveler the Doctor had met earlier. The tall thin man was disguised as a messenger and bearing a package.

"Valmont!" the Doctor growled as he tightened his hold on her hand. "That is the fellow I saw before. The other time traveler when I was looking for Haig and Allenby." He steered her closer to the edge of the building to hide before saying more. "He doesn't see us, I might be able to catch him." But as he tried to move away, she pulled on his coat. Confused, he took an unsteady step toward her.

She smiled and toyed with his lapel then, the way an attentive woman might. "Doctor?" she crooned in a voice he had never heard before.

"Hmmm?" he asked, distractedly. He was lost, puzzling out this change in her behavior. He was staring at her hands, watching them work the fabric of his coat, and feeling himself lightly unbalanced as she tugged on it.

"The package, Doctor. Think about what it might actually be. If he can transport himself out with something like the Time Ring, he won't care about how short the fuse is on any explosive."

They watched as Valmont passed through the guards by confidently showing them a letter and indicating the package.

"How do _**we**_ get passed the guards?" she whispered.

"I don't think '**we**' do. Someone will have to distract them while I go in."

"Someone?!"

"Precisely, yes," he said smiling. "And now."

She groaned and pinched at the bridge of her nose like some prima dona collecting herself. Then she walked from the cover of the building.

He had no idea what she told those two young sentries, but they were both soon pushing at the bushes surrounding the building and whistling.

At a chipper run, he made for the entrance, taking the steps two at a time.

Serena continued to whistle for the dog she had supposedly lost, one she told the guards belonged to Wellington. All the while, she kept her eyes on the building's tall windows, hoping for some sign that the Doctor had been successful.

The bang that came then made the widows rattle, and brought all thoughts of lost dogs to an end. The guards ran into the building, as did a startled Serena.

"Top floor! Top floor, my fine fellows," the Doctor encourage the soldiers as he passed them on the stairs. He was on his way down, mopping his hands with a handkerchief, and smiling.

"You were too late. The bomb?" she said breathlessly. She passed her hands over him lightly as if to reassure herself he was undamaged.

"I was too late to stop Valmont from handing the package to Wellington, _**but**_ I did manage to get the package out the back window," he said with satisfaction. He pocketed half the handkerchief, leaving the other half to pour out of his pocket. He offered her his arm, and she took it. She didn't fight the urge she felt to squeeze his arm affectionately. Or to lean into him as they walked down the stairs. It was once they were out that she realized what she had forgotten.

"Valmont! What about the fellow that _**had**_ the package!"

"Gone. Did his vanishing trick again. Tiresome, really."

###

The Doctor and Serena returned to the TARDIS, still with no idea what the Players' ultimate goal was, Did the sides have any purpose other than to oppose each other? Was this simply a game of their own construct?

The more the Doctor pondered these questions, the more he was sure the key was to follow Napoleon. Conferring with Serena, he decided to check on Napoleon in1805 when Napoleon's army was massing at Boulogne.

^&*^&*

The Doctor and Serena traveled to Paris and rented a home on the Rue Chantereine. They hoped to pass themselves off as a rich and mysterious couple new to Paris society. The goal was to attract the attention of high society and thereby Napoleon himself.

He knocked on the door to her bedchamber and then leaned in to ask her how she was settling in. She seemed pensive, staring out the window with a hand to the curtain.

"Is something wrong?" he asked as he walked closer.

She was sure he was treating her differently than he would another companion. His treatment of her underscored his belief that she was un-redeemably sheltered, she decided. "Why aren't we in the position of needing to share quarters - if we are posing as a married couple?" she asked bluntly, as she turned to him.

He smiled a bit. With a gentle shake of his head, he told her, "It would not be odd for persons of a certain station to have their own bedrooms - even though they were married. Not everyone who is married wants to spend quite that amount of time together.

"A lot to learn."

"All of it does not require learning, really... this minutia regarding relationships. Not to worry."

They were talking about two things at once, they both knew.

"If you have not been out to enjoy your balcony, you really should see it," he said to change the subject. He opened the door and then followed her outside.

Once she was to the railing, she asked him, "Do you have a similar view from your room?"

He shook his head. "I wanted you to enjoy this," he admitted quietly.

She shifted just the little bit closer then, so that their shoulders rubbed. Their forearms brushed one another. He smiled at her efforts to be coy, yet forward.

He took up her hand then without looking, as if to avoid drawing too much attention to the act. In recent days he had taken to walking with her like this. He needed to keep her safe, yes. But it was more than that.

"This is something you like," she said, softly as she looked at their hands.

"It is a comforting habit, perhaps. I don't like to be on my own," he said with a shrug. "And like this, all these specialized muscles and nerve endings in our hands, holding on to each other? I know without a doubt I am not alone. It is a weakness of mine, perhaps..."

"No. I can understand a bit. You were quite alone after the trial - kept as you were."

He merely nodded and as the moments passed, he found himself squeezing her hand. Or had it been she who had initiated that? He looked at her and realized he couldn't be sure.

"It's beautiful here," she said at last. "But, I wouldn't want to be here indefinitely."

"No, me neither." After a smile that seemed shy and a long silence, he continued. "This is a big change for you.... being here. Actually experiencing these things, these places, instead of reading about them."

"You were willing to change your opinion of me," she said quite seriously. "That, I think, has been the critical change."

He was afraid he understood the fullness of what she meant. "It's late," he prompted. "You should turn in."

She stepped closer then, as he turned toward her. "A good night kiss then? That would be customary." She had not managed to sound very brave about it, although it was obvious she had tried.

"Serena?"

"These couples, like the one we are impersonating, they must still want to be together sometimes despite the separate rooms."

"What are you playing at?"

"If I wanted to stay with you..."

"You don't, Serena," he insisted. "A few kisses is fine, but..."

"Is it? It doesn't feel like enough anymore."

That was all he could think suddenly, that he had hoped for more. He kissed her then, as sweetly as he knew how, and moved her from the balcony to her room. Closing the door, he turned to kiss her again.

"I don't understand how any of this happened," he admitted softly as they paused. "The things I've felt..."

"Have changed," she supplied.

He smiled and nodded at her. Leaning in he placed kisses to her neck that he hoped would say what he couldn't. With quick kisses and quick steps, she answered him, walking him backwards toward the bed. Short of breath, he stopped them suddenly.

He looked at her sadly then. Reality could be only so well dodged. "When we return to Gallifrey you will regret this. You'll have your reward for being my .... jailer. And you will find that I make very bad company. Being a criminal and likely incarcerated still. Unless .... unless what you're after has nothing to do with me," he said as if the thought had just occurred to him. He dropped his hands from her arms and was quiet for a bit before he said more. "If this is something anonymous you want. And I won't do that."

"Something anonymous? That's what you think?" she asked as she backed away and fixed the button at her neck. "I'm not researching you. I'm not conducting some antiseptic experiment. I'm just some confused, pitiful woman who thought she understood what was going on. Who finally thought she knew what she wanted." She backed further away and the anger slipped out of her voice. "Before I read all about you, I had no intention of taking this job. I don't really trust the Council to reward me. But I was curious. About the way you travel. About you. What sort of man would do what so few dare to do? You were fascinating. Beguiling. Even in print, I could see how honorable you are. And when I met you, **_sti__l_**_**l**_ I was not dissuaded."

"That's a lovely assessment," he said sourly. He smoothed his coat as if slightly offended by her reaction to first seeing him.

"It's amazing, actually, given your bad temper at the time," she countered. "Before, on Gallifrey, the idea of physical intimacy was intriguing. But _mostly_, it disgusted me. Probably because of the Time Lords I know. They are intimidating. Brusque. Unfeeling. But you... _you_ are none of those things."

He shook his head. "This is why they say travel is an aphrodisiac. It isn't the stars. It's the change it allows. On Gallifrey, you never would have talked with me so long. You never would have touched me or fussed over my injuries. But it has been just the two of us, all the hours of all these days.

She heard his voice soften and she stepped close enough to touch him - but didn't. "I don't claim to understand these things. But what I felt was not a desire for something anonymous. You are astounding, unlike anyone else I know. That's what I was reacting to. What I could not help but react to."

"I'm sorry."

"Doctor? Stay? Just so we aren't alone. I would just like to know ... to have you hold me."

He answered her by stepping closer, by taking up her hand and pulling her to the bed. They lay down together then, silently. The awkwardness of what had come just before made this easy in comparison, they both found.

Cautiously, he pulled closer. He draped an arm across her, kissed her clothed shoulder and closed his eyes. She let her eyes fall shut then, and she focused on the sound of his breath, the weight of his hand. This bed, this little space they shared, held more than she could understand. More than her library ever had.

Ever since his first kind word, she had willingly lost sight of both the past and the future. It should have been frightening and unsettling.

But how could she have done any differently, she asked herself, when this now that he supplied felt so ripe and full and good?

^&*^&*


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** So, Four returns here at the start... other than that invention of mine (the decision to include Four) the story is still loosely following WORLD GAME by Terrance Dicks. The big differences being - I think Two needs a good snogging and TD doesn't. And I feel free to chuck large portions of plot out so that this can wind up before I get old.

* * *

$%^$%^

"_Sleepy head," the tall Time Lord whispered into Romana's hair._

"_Doctor?" Romana said with concern in her voice._

_He shook his thick head of curls and groaned faintly. He remembered now. Remembered when he was. It was the smell of Romana's hair that was teasing at him. Not Serena's. It was the feel of Romana trying to comfort him that he was registering. _

_It had been so real. He had stepped inside the memories, slipped into the past, to that morning when he had woken up with Serena beside him. _

"_It's all right, Romana," came his gravelly answer. He paused then, feeling self-conscious about having been caught day dreaming out loud. "Just a stray thought." _

"_About?" she ventured gently._

_He leaned back and studied her a long time, as if he was wondering what he could say and still have her see him the same way. He didn't want to provoke her worry any more than he already had. His head wagged back and forth in his physical show of uncertainty with his own answer. _

"_I was thinking about a friend," he finally said. "A good friend." He was his quirky self again then for just a few seconds. _

_Romana realized she had learned to read him. At times like these, she could see how urges played first across his great brain before the impulses jumped untempered to his long limbs. With quick fingers, he took a lock of her hair to wind it about his finger and take in the smell of it. He smiled his great smile. Then, sadly, he looked at her as if she was someone else. _

_The reality of the loss Romana had sensed, seemed to take him over once again. In the next moment, he was closed to her. Still, he didn't let go of her. He didn't push her away._

_He was indulging himself, perhaps. Holding her a tad tighter now, and remembering someone else, Romana believed. But these were good memories now, not the ones that had rattled him so badly when they had found that open field just beyond the forest's limits here near Waterloo._

"_Dear girl," he said in another man's voice. _

%%%***%%%

Lying there, a younger Time Lord catalogued it all. The smell of her. The way the light streamed in from the balcony. The warmth that ran through him as he gently moved his hand to stroke her back. The feelings were so potent, he swore he would be able to store them and remembered them always.

It was sweet, too sweet, to wake with her in her bed and feel her head turned against his chest. It was like some reward he did not deserve. A reward life had not seen fit to bestow on him for dozens of years now.

It felt like something he had taken, rather than earned. But wasn't it possible he deserved this, too? How long had it been since he had been the one to take a bit of comfort. When had he last relaxed enough to feel these things? How long had it been since anyone had touched him? Really found him out?

When was the last time he had let anyone so close?

"Serena?" he whispered.

He smiled and closed his eyes. Drew in these last few moments of morning like he was a thief. He felt it all run through him, strangely amplified. The way she pressed against him with every breath. The weight of her arm around him. The feel of her hand against his back where she had worked under his shirt to find skin.

"Sleepy head," he teased.

He rolled on to his back and pulled her half on top of him.

She was waking up, and he was determined to watch each motion. Her self conscious hand to her hair. The delicious cat-like stretch. The slow measured move that brought her face up to his level so that she could put her lips against his.

"A thousand things," he said when she released him.

"What?!"

He laughed. "There are a thousand things to do. Well, it isn't really the number that is the problem. It's the importance. Well, relative importance one to the..."

"Doctor?" she interrupted with disappointment. But if he was urging them to accomplish anything then why, she wondered, were his arms around her so tenderly. Why was he looking at her with such happy eyes? "What must we do? Well, just the first thing please. Do not give me a list before breakfast," she begged.

"Be prepared," he said, cryptically with amusement in his voice. He motioned for her to lean close in, as if he would whisper a secret, but he kissed her ear instead. Then he nuzzled at her neck, making her squeal.

She missed the knock at the door and the voice which called out, "Madam?"

A stunned and slightly embarrassed Serena opened her eyes to see the maid backing out of the room at the sight of them.

Once the door had closed, the Doctor laughed. "I had heard her on the stairs. I would say our 'cover story' is safe," he told her impishly. She looked at him not knowing if she was mad or merely embarrassed. "It would have seemed far odder had we jumped apart, Serena," he told her. "And I really was not inclined to let you go. Not before I had to." His words rang through her like a compliment that she sorely needed. She felt reassured that he had not merely been indulging her last night. Perhaps, he had felt some of what she had.

#$%#$%

The Tardis was down stairs disguised as a grandfather clock. Once breakfast was over, the pair of them climbed in so that they could consult the data there.

In researching Napoleon's timeline, they found that there would be an attempt on the man's life soon. Serena pulled a map from a stack and attempted to orient herself. The Doctor leaned over her shoulder with a fresh intimacy and showed her the street in question. "The Rue Saint Honoré," he told her, stabbing a finger at the paper. "That's the road his carriage will travel. We can place ourselves in an outdoor cafe near there and wait."

"Sit and wait? That's the plan?" she asked, steadfastly ignoring the way it felt to have him linger so near her.

His head see-sawed back and forth as if he was looking for more to say. All he managed to add, however, was, "For now."

They sat at the sidewalk cafe with a spattering of other diners. Serena was long past having any more coffee and leaned back in her chair to watch the passers by. The Doctor did not have her talent for sitting still, and it made him seem nervous. Serena doubted he really was, though.

She watched the way his hands were in constant motion, and she wondered how he had managed to turn off this manic energy long enough to sleep beside her the night before. She thought about that event a great deal, she was forced to admit. She wondered what it meant. Wondered if it would be repeated. Wondered that she had never known something so simple and complete before.

Watching his restlessness another moment was suddenly more than she could bear. With a quick motion, she was able to reach out and capture one of his hands in hers.

He seemed to still briefly and half a smile played on his face. Without warning, though, he was pulling his hand away and getting to his feet. He pushed his way between two tables then and vaulted over the chain that separated them from the street without uttering a word.

Serena saw what had alerted him then. A driver had blocked the narrow road with his wagon and had immediately abandoned his seat and run off. Seeing the Doctor climb into the driver's spot, all Serena could think about was the package at the Colonial Office.

"Explosives, Doctor!" she called out as she followed him. But the Doctor was already urging the wagon forward. Fifty yards ahead, the road opened into a square with a fountain. Somehow, the Doctor managed to turn the wagon hard, causing the crates in the back to dump into the low fountain. He clamored down and walked towards her, smiling with self satisfaction..

As he opened his mouth to tell her something, he was drowned out by the explosion behind him. He flinched briefly, and then reached for her. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her down to crouch with him as pieces of wood rained in the square.

"Where did you learn to drive a wagon like that?" she asked, as they slowly straightened up together.

"I honestly don't remember."

She was still pressed up against him he noticed. "The adrenaline is quite remarkable," he told her, breathing hard, but starting to smile. "It makes me, um. Well..." He gave up on a verbal explanation then and pulled her tighter against him.

Serena rose a tad on her toes, and feeling the need to tease, she whispered, "Does it make you want that Earth custom you told me about? The one where the hero is welcomed home?" He answered her with a slow kiss that made her begin to believe it was entirely possible to understand each other without words.

#$%#$%

"Sir!" a deep voice yelled in French.

Unwillingly, Serena released the Doctor. She turned to see a tall soldier walking ahead of a man who could only be Napoleon.

Napoleon immediately demanded to know who they were. "You might remember us from Fort Carre, your Excellency?" the Doctor managed in French. "The day your execution was averted?" Napoleon's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer as if he would study the Doctor in detail. "Illuminati," the Doctor whispered then.

Napoleon nodded. "Well done," he said backing away.

As Serena watched the French Emperor and his attache walk back to their carriage, she leaned into the Time Lord and repeated the single word he had said that had so stilled Napoleon.

"Illuminati?" she asked.

"Yes, Napoleon is now convinced that we are members of the secret society known as the Illuminati. A group which believes Napoleon to be a man of destiny."

Once Napoleon was settled in his carriage, the aide returned. With a stiff nod of his head, the tall man pressed a card into the Doctor's hand.

"You will attend," the man said cryptically. And without waiting for a reply, he turned and rejoined the Emperor.

%^&

"What is it," Serena asked.

"An invitation," the Time Lord told her with a pleased smile. "The pleasure of our company is requested at a reception at the Tuileries."

"Ah. Very exciting!"

"And what if I told you the soldier who brought us this invitation was Captain Hippolyte Charles?"

Hearing that name, Serena's eyes lit up. "He is one of Josephine's lovers."

"Such a good student."

The Doctor pocketed the card, and then took up Serena's hand. "Adrenaline," he said as he gave her hand a squeeze, "makes a man very indulgent."

"Explain," she said with a smile.

"Let's go dress shopping."

$%^$%^

* * *

Note: Thanks for reading. Do feel free to let me know someone has read this far :)


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